


Easier Communication

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Muteness, Pre-Slash, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for shsl rare pair week for the Day 5 prompt: Throat/Our ability to communicate.</p>
<p>In which Komaeda has lost his voice in an incident and has to communicate via notebook in spite of really poor handwriting. After a while, Kamukura transfers into his class. Even though Kamukura usually doesn't talk much himself, he does decide he'll help Komaeda with his poor communication skills. How nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easier Communication

**Author's Note:**

> It's short because I couldn't figure out which direction to take it so it's more first chapter-y than oneshot-y. It's kinda awkward so I might just revisit this thing later. Don't count on it though.
> 
> Cross-posted of course, like with all drabble-y things, from my tumblr.

The bad luck of the accident came with a lot of good luck afterwards.

There were banners for him reading “Welcome Back Komaeda-kun” and “We Missed You”— _though he was sure the paper felt nothing_ —and in lieu of his lost possessions, he had been given more than enough to make up for it by generous teachers and classmates. His shoulder had been patted, his hair ruffled, and every smile he received was returned wholeheartedly and graciously.

It would pass of course, he knew, leaving him with just the pity he’d often see in those smiles and grateful glances—imprinted on him and left behind like the burns hidden under bandages and clothes. But eventually even  _that_  would fade into the cool indifference he was used to.

It’d be easier now to be overlooked, he knew—now that he couldn’t speak anymore.

* * *

The journal Komaeda uses is one decorated with a clover sticker to set it apart from his other notebooks. His handwriting is still abysmal though, but he wouldn’t say he’s any less comprehensible than he had been with a voice. It’s not too much of a loss there, but...

It’s more aggravating for others having to wait for him to scribble down a response and then struggle to read his chicken scratch writing. One of the most common messages Komaeda’s written down in his journal ends up being variations of apologies. Others are sympathetic, of course— _the accident wasn’t your fault, these things just happen, it must be so rough on you, it’s fine really_ —but patience dwindles the more it’s tested over time. It’s alright. He always writes down that it’s alright, too, even more times than he’s written down he’s sorry.

When the excitement fades away with the incident, people still treat him kindly— _and like glass, really, Komaeda feels like he’ll break sometimes from that_ —so it’s not too bad. Life goes on, only now that he’s rendered unable to rant, things are a lot more peaceful.

People don’t voice it in his presence, but he knows. Everyone really is grateful for that—he ought to be as well. He does manage to write how okay everything is when people ask—because it  _is_.

It’s alright.

* * *

The persistent peace leads to a lot of buzz when there’s a transfer student that year. Girls gossip and guys grumble about the new kid, and Komaeda holds his journal close as he watches them chatter.

He learns the other’s name without having to ask—Kamukura. Kamukura Izuru. It’s an interesting name—a peculiar one that matches the student in question when he finally sees him.

Kamukura-kun comes off as rather cool, initially with his long, tied up black hair despite a rather piercing red gaze. He introduces himself formally and briskly when asked, but from that point onward his responses mostly consist of one word. Komaeda’s counted, actually, the one time he spoke longer than a single-digit sentence—and the word count was still less than twenty.

He would talk longer if asked to explain a problem— _it wasn’t too long before Kamukura revealed himself as a near prodigy_ —but his detail was always minimal and he never made personal statements. Even though he seemed so aloof, students flocked to him and chatted with him carefreely. Komaeda sat by, fidgeting with his pencil while he was trying to scribble down his schedule, and his lips twitched as he watched—throat itching and dry.

Kamukura eventually brushed students off, turning down study group invitations and muttering that he needed to go before standing up and leaving without much else. Komaeda swallowed, and shrunk in his seat as one of his classmates muttered in annoyance about how  _cold_  that was of him.

Komaeda forced himself to finish his writing after that.

* * *

“Excuse me.”

_...Huh? Huh, huh, **huh**?_

Kamukura waves his hand to get his attention, or to clarify that  _yes Komaeda Nagito I am indeed talking to you_. In fact if Komaeda still wasn’t sure about that, he even walks over to his desk, gaze low on his ever-silent classmate sinking in his seat.

“I was absent yesterday.” He explains as brief as ever, no further details—even though Komaeda already knew because the other students wouldn’t stop  _talking_  about that. “May I see your notes for that class I missed?”

_Asking that of someone like me... I wonder what Kamukura-kun’s thinking..._

Komaeda flipped open his journal— _oh, it’s been a while hasn’t it_ —and with a fading smile, he wrote down his message.  _My handwriting isn’t very good._

Kamukura read it, blinked like he didn’t see the obvious problem in Komaeda’s slanted script, how messy and clumsy the curves were. Then he looked at Komaeda expectantly again, not even missing a beat, “As long as they’re decent, I don’t mind.”

Hastily, Komaeda scribbled.  _Pekoyama-san is better to ask. She’d be able to explain better if you had any questions about the notes._

His classmate sighed, clearly irritated so Komaeda was already following up with an apology. Then he shrugged and...

Komaeda blinked a couple times and then wrote.  _I’m sorry?_

Kamukura stared back— _that slight surprise might have been a figment of his imagination, yes_ —and then moved his hands in that calculated motion once again, though slower as if he was... _oh_. Oh, of course. Kamukura was  _signing_  to him. It’s no wonder someone as smart as Kamukura-kun knew how to do something like that, though it’s still a bit odd.

_I’m sorry._  He clarified.  _I don’t know JSL._

“It’s easier communicating that way rather than writing your message out by hand,” Kamukura says, only it’s more like one of those explanations the teacher asked for than an answer to Komaeda’s incompetence. “If you lend me your notes, I can teach you a couple phrases.”

_It’s alright._  He’s already writing that down as instinct, smile small but gracious on his face. But then his hand trembles and he botches the message before it’s completed. Kamukura isn’t fazed— _is it presumptuous of him, though, to think that Kamukura-kun might be considering taking him to the nurse_ —and Komaeda laughs it off, weak and wheezy.

_I’m sor..._

Komaeda immediately stopped, touching his throat. His hand’s still shaking.  _Right._  How could he have forgotten?

“Komaeda?”

Komaeda nearly jumps, and Kamukura is looking at him in a way that’s...cautious. No, that’s  _concern_. Komaeda helplessly ducks his head, and without anything else, he reaches into his bag, takes out his notebook and hands it over. Kamukura takes it, nods as he flips to the page he wanted, and...

“I’ll return this soon, and after... We’ll meet in the library after class, if that’s not too much trouble?”

Komaeda perked up, surprised and the confusion must show so apparently on his face that he doesn’t need to ask. Kamukura doesn’t need to answer either way, because he remembers and quickly nods, too shamefaced to move his fingers.

“It’s not terribly difficult for someone like you, I’m sure,” Kamukura continues like Komaeda’s initial response hadn’t happened. “You’re fairly intelligent after all.”

**_Huh?_ **

Kamukura watches blankly as Komaeda’s face burns and maybe he’s imagining it, but... He mouths ‘thank you’ to the other, smiles small and shy, and the other’s lips twitch before he responds, concise and almost careful. “It’s really nothing.”

* * *

He nearly convinces himself this is all an elaborate prank—but Kamukura-kun isn’t like that  _and_  Kamukura-kun is actually there to meet him in the library as promised. In fact, he’s there first and Komaeda had shown up a bit early.

Kamukura’s voice is low as he explains, like it is when the teacher calls on him, but the focus and attention he gives Komaeda to make sure he’s following is something new. Komaeda clumsily follows his motions, Kamukura corrects, and he’s even given supplementary advice.

It’s overwhelming that Kamukura is so patient and dedicated. He likes this—really  _appreciates_  it, but inwardly he’s panicking with excitement at what’s going to happen with this much good luck in one sitting.

_It’s because I lost my voice. But surely my voice isn’t_  worth _all this..._

Kamukura snapped his fingers to get his attention though, urging they continue and Komaeda couldn’t stop smiling. If the brunet was bothered by this, he didn’t show it, and instead the lesson continues diligently.

Eventually Kamukura does need to return home due to a phone call—he leaves the library to do so and Komaeda thoughtlessly almost follows after him. He manages to stop himself, but still manages to see Kamukura chatting rather...amiably with the person on the phone? Perhaps he imagined that.

“Shall we do this again sometime?” Kamukura asks him once he hangs up—not even bothered that Komaeda was trailing pathetically after him already. Kamukura-kun really is patient, he thinks. So he nods, signs ‘thank you’ though he isn’t sure yet how to say ‘see you later’. Kamukura understands though because he says it for him, moving his hands to demonstrate.

Komaeda repeats his thanks, hand just a bit jerkier with the raise and chokes back a laugh before the two of them wave good-bye. Kamukura even wishes him well and Komaeda thinks he might need it with how hard his heart’s still pounding, eyes stuck on the other as he walks away, taking in that calm, easy stride.


End file.
